A Young Folks' History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints eBook

On the morning of September 10th, 1846, the watchman
in the tower of the temple gave notice that the enemy
were coming 1,000 or 1,500 strong. They had cannon,
plenty of ammunition, and came like an army ready for
battle. Many of the new citizens fled, and the
little band of defenders numbered only one hundred
and twenty-three men.

Meanwhile, a committee had come from Quincy to try
to settle the troubles without bloodshed. Although
with them were Major Flood, sent by the governor,
and Mr. Wood, mayor of Quincy, the mob paid no attention
to them, and so they could do nothing.

There seemed no prospect but that the citizens would
have to defend themselves as best they could.
Benjamin Clifford took command of the volunteers,
and Captain William Anderson organized a small body
of sharpshooters called the Spartan Band. As
cannon were badly needed, the brethren got two hollow
steamboat shafts, cut them in two, plugged up one
end, and thus made some cannon. They had no cannon
balls, but they used scraps of iron and lead tied
up into bags.

On Friday, the 11th, the mob drew up to the city and
began firing. They were met by the “Mormon”
troops with their home-made cannon, which surprised
the mobbers very much, and they were compelled to stop
their advance.

On Saturday, the 12th, a flag of truce was brought
into the city, and with it a note to the commander
at Nauvoo, stating that if they did not surrender
they would have to take the consequences. Major
Clifford replied that he had been sent by the governor
to uphold the laws and that he was going to do it,
advising Brockman to disband his men.

The Nauvoo citizens had held their position during
the night and had thrown up some breastworks.
The next day the battle waged fiercer than ever, but
the Nauvoo boys held their ground and the mob could
not get in. Twelve mobbers were wounded.
The first one killed among the defenders was Augustus
Anderson, a “Mormon” boy fourteen years
old. He left his mother that morning saying he
would fight for her, and went along with his father,
Captain William Anderson. Augustus was struck
by a cannon ball, and died in a few minutes.
Shortly after Captain Anderson was also hit.

“I am wounded,” he cried. “Take
my gun and shoot on.”

David Norris was also killed, and a number of other
brethren wounded.

For six days that little band of brave defenders kept
the mob at bay; and even when it was seen to be useless
to keep the fight up longer, many were in favor of
doing so.

On the 16th a treaty was made. The city was to
surrender. The citizens were not to be molested,
and the sick and helpless were to be protected.
The “Mormons” were to leave as soon as
possible.

The mob forces entered the city on the 17th; but it
was the same old story. They thought no more
of promises or of the treaty. Bands of men went
through the city, stealing, insulting, and in every
way abusing the people. A gang went through the
temple and up to the tower where they rang the bell,
yelled and shouted. A preacher who was in the
mob went up to the top of the tower and cried in a
loud voice: